


I'm a screamer, baby, make me a mute

by Lise



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: (sort of it's a little more complicated than that), Anal Sex, F/M, Femdom, Hate Sex, Loki's journey of kink discovery, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn Battle, Rough Sex, Sif could really do better, Strap-Ons, Woman on Top, but she's drunk and annoyed don't judge, okay i think that's all the relevant tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 00:50:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki's jealous. Sif's jealous. They're both a little drunk, and Loki's mouth has a tendency to run away with him. (Written for the Porn Battle XV.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm a screamer, baby, make me a mute

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, yes, I know I should be working on my longer projects (I SWEAR I AM!!!) but it's the Porn Battle, guys, and there are so many Loki pairings to write porn for! I have important priorities. And am bad at responsibility in _all_ the spheres of my life. 
> 
> This fic was written (quickly and probably poorly) for the prompt of Sif/Loki, rough, pegging, escalation, femdom. Because I don't have a type of het pairing. Oh no.

Loki’s mood had started out poor and only gotten worse.

Thor hadn’t said so much as two words to him the entire night, despite the fact that they were seated next to each other. Apparently he found the tittering, ample-breasted woman who had somehow wedged herself in on Thor’s left far more interesting. The only slight benefit was that Sif, who had been pushed off by the same woman, looked like she had swallowed a lemon, which was at least entertaining enough to stave off annoyance for a while.

But not forever.

Loki snagged another cup of mulled wine from a passing server and drank it all at one gulp. Flirtation had long since passed to something less delicate, and not even Sif’s expression of displeasure was sufficient distraction from Loki’s own. He downed two more cups of wine rapidly, hoping it would help, but though it filled his head with a somewhat pleasant buzz it also made his nerves feel more raw and frayed than they had.

When he glanced over to find the woman and Thor twined together like a vine around a tree, he shoved himself to his feet, disentangled himself from the bench (with some difficulty) and stepped back. “I think,” he said loudly, “I shall take my leave.”

Thor didn’t so much as glance over his shoulder. Fandral gave him a smile that was almost apologetic (which Loki ignored) and the rest of the table appeared to be imitating Thor and pretending to be aware only of their immediate surroundings. Loki’s eyes lighted on Sif, who had gone from looking disgruntled to looking murderous, and felt a slight pang of sympathy.

“Sif,” he said, “would you care to accompany me?”

“No,” Sif grated, but she glanced to her right and then stood, stiffly, though Loki noted a fair quantity of emptied goblets scattered around her place as well. “But even your company might be preferable to the alternative at the moment.”

Loki gave her his best smile and offered her his arm, which she ignored. He strode from the hall, attempting to make his steps steady, confident, assured. He was not troubled at all. Not that anyone was watching to see, and not that anyone would likely care if he were.

Another layer of bitterness settled on Loki’s tongue.

He and Sif walked in silence for a ways, her scowl not slackening in the least. It was a nasty little impulse that pricked Loki to speak, but the wine had loosened his tongue. Or perhaps the resentment had.

“Come, Sif,” he said, summoning a smile. “No need to look so dour. I am sure when Thor gets tired of sticking his cock in every other woman in Asgard, he will come around to you eventually.”

A flush rose alarmingly easily in Sif’s cheeks. “I have no interest in the prince,” she said, blandly.

“Ah, is that why every time his hands dipped under that wench’s dress you looked as though you were like to rip her throat out with your teeth? Or would it be his?”

Sif quickened her pace, and Loki matched his to it. “Perhaps you should spend more time considering your own desires rather than mine,” she said, voice sharpening, though Loki could hear the wine in it. “Or have you still found no one who will lie with you?”

Loki felt his face heat. “I have no shortage of interested parties. I am merely selective about my particular interests.”

“Oh?” Sif said, and turned, sneering. “And what _is_ it you _are_ interested by?”

“I wouldn’t want to make you blush,” Loki snapped back. “A fair maid like you.” He sketched a mocking bow, one that wavered, slightly. Sif seized his wrist and dragged him back up before he could complete it.

“Don’t mock me.”

Loki let his grin widen. “Why not, when it is both so easy and so very entertaining?”

“You _cur,_ ” Sif snarled. “Do you not know how to be silent?”

Loki leaned in close enough to smell the wine on her shallow, angry breaths. “Make me.”

Sif slammed him against the wall, hands pinioning his wrists to stone. The air left his lungs in a rush and he was suddenly acutely aware of her closeness, of the ache of forming bruises where her fingers pressed in too hard. He swallowed. Sif’s eyes bored into his. “Satisfied?”

Loki waited until his breath returned, and then summoned a grin that felt wild even to him. “What’s your plan now, Sif?” The words stumbled off his tongue without thought. “Fuck me into submission against the wall with that massive cock you wish you had? Too bad-”

Her hand released his left wrist, but only to lock around his throat, not quite cutting off his air but tight enough to stop his voice. Sif’s eyes were narrowed and her face was flushed with rage, her breathing quick. Her fingers tightened just a fraction, digging into his neck.

Then she released his throat and was dragging him along by the arm. Loki’s head was suddenly spinning and he felt a good deal more drunk, though perhaps that was the effects of Sif choking him. Probably, he thought dizzily, that had been a stupid thing to say.

Sif flung him through the door and slammed it behind her. Her feet were planted, chest heaving. “Get on the bed,” she said through her teeth. Loki hauled himself to his feet and blinked at her, feeling a little dazed.

“What?”

“Get. On the bed,” Sif enunciated.

It took Loki a moment to register that he was in Sif’s rooms. He hadn’t been here often. She was probably, he decided, not going to kill him on her own bed, if only for the mess. He got on the bed and when he turned to look back at Sif found that she was stripping off her armor and clothing in brutal, precise movements.

Loki’s mouth went a little dry. His whole body felt warm – hot. “What are you doing?”

Sif’s eyes narrowed in his direction. “Fucking you with my massive cock,” she said, her lip curling at one side. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Oh, _yes._ But also, _oh no._ Loki’s mind went perfectly blank and he gaped stupidly at her even as his cock twitched within his pants. Sif turned with a disdainful snort and Loki’s eyes followed her muscular buttocks as she walked away with vague fascination. He pushed himself up, watching her don some sort of harness and working moisture back into his mouth.

“I don’t want to cast any aspersions on your ability to perform,” Loki managed to say.

“But you’re going to anyway,” Sif said, lowly, and then turned. “We’ll see if you’ve learned to shut your mouth by the time I’m through with you.”

Loki’s eyes fixed on the thick length jutting up between Sif’s legs, above her cunt. It was made out of leather and looked to his eyes obscenely wide. A shiver ran down his spine and he licked his lips, only partly out of nerves. It ought, he thought vaguely, to make Sif look ridiculous, the female lines of her body unmasked by her nakedness and yet that pretense of maleness so very visible.

The feeling growing in his loins was not amusement, however. Loki had always known he was a little bit of a deviant, but…

“What,” he said, mouth moving while his brain was still catching up. “Do you wear that outside?”

Sif’s eyes narrowed and she stalked toward him, cock bobbing between her legs. She climbed onto the bed and Loki offered her a smile. “You know it’s not just the phallus that makes a – _unh._ ”

Sif’s hand pressed down on the swelling bulge at his crotch and Loki’s teeth clicked together. Her jaw was tight. “I should have known,” she said, sneeringly. “It should have been obvious how you’d want it. The way you look at Thor-”

Loki felt anger leap hot up his throat and hissed, “at least I have him as a brother, it’s more than you ever will.”

Sif threw him back again and her mouth on his was bruising, hard and fierce and far more like an attack than a kiss. Her teeth dug into his lower lip until he tasted blood. A low sound escaped him and his hips bucked up against the pressure of Sif’s hand. She pulled it away and he arched into nothing, gasping into her mouth.

She jerked back, hair loose and beginning to come loose of its braid. “Clothes off,” she said, harshly, and Loki scrambled to obey before he thought about doing so. His fingers fumbled with the catches on his clothing, clumsy and hurried, and after a moment he gave up and simply used magic. Hardly had he wriggled out of the last of his clothing before Sif had a handful of his hair and was pushing him down into the mattress, her hips insinuating between his legs. He pushed up into her, an embarrassingly breathy sound escaping his throat.

“If you think this will make him jealous you sorely overestimate,” Loki started to say, but his voice evaporated when Sif grabbed his cock and stroked roughly. Her laugh was unkind.

“No wonder you haven’t had many offers, if _this_ is all you have to offer.” Loki squirmed, anger and shame flaring up at once, but he felt himself stiffen in her hand. She bared her teeth at him. “Are you sure you want to try taking me?”

Loki felt a momentary flicker of doubt as he remembered the girth of the phallus Sif was wearing, but if he backed down now…

“You said you wanted to silence me,” he challenged. “I do not feel terribly silenced at the – _ah!_ ” Her rough tug on his cock interrupted him, accompanied by her teeth in his neck, the pain sharp. Then her hands were moving, lifting his hips, and he could feel leather sliding between his buttocks, the blunt tip pushing at his body, and Loki felt a flash of panic. “Sif-”

“Calm down,” Sif muttered, “I’m not going to ruin you,” and then withdrew only to return a moment later, slick fingers pressing into him. She began with two and Loki yelped but only thrashed briefly, one arm flying up to go over his eyes. He took a couple breathy little gasps and was just beginning to adjust to the burn when she added another and spread all three wide inside him. The only sound he could make was a high pitched keening one even as his hips bucked and his legs spread, opening for her like a whore.

Desire throbbed in his belly, desperate and intense. He could hear Sif’s breathing, ragged and uneven as well, and felt a small flush of satisfaction that she was not untouched, even if it was only the satisfaction of debasing him arousing her.

Sif withdrew her fingers and lined up her cock again, and even with the opening it felt far too large, and for a moment Loki hovered on a knife’s edge of telling her to stop.

“What are you waiting for,” he rasped, and she thrust into him like a plow into virgin soil.

He meant to hold back the scream. He intended to. Loki did not manage it. It exploded out of him as his body bent off the bed, Sif’s hands on his hips not letting him wriggle away as her cock split him in two – or it felt like it would. Thick, unyielding leather pressed into his entrails like he was being impaled, and Loki’s eyes were open wide but seeing nothing. He gasped like a fish, heels hitting the bed.

“Take it,” Sif said, her voice rough. “ _Take_ it!”

Loki howled again as she pushed further in, screwing into him until there was no room for breath or thought or anything, and he was almost certain if he laid a hand on his own stomach he would feel Sif’s cock poking under the skin, shoving his guts out of the way. His mouth was wide open but he couldn’t get enough air, and yet his cock was hard as tempered steel, straining at nothing.

Sif fucked into him until her hips were seated against his ass. He could feel the bristle of her hair against his upper thighs, the dampness of her cunt. He swallowed hard and repeatedly, body straining.

“Well, Silvertongue?” Sif said, and she sounded much more smug, her words slurring only slightly. “Any flippant words about my _cock_ now?”

Loki scrambled to remember how to form words. “I,” he started to say, and then Sif rocked her hips and whatever he’d meant to say strangled and died in his throat. His cock was weeping clear fluid onto his stomach and he wasn’t sure he could breathe, although he apparently still was.

 _Sif,_ his mind reminded him helpfully. _This is Sif. You are lying on your back on Sif’s bed, splayed open like a tavern whore while she fucks you._ Followed by, _I am not certain I am going to survive this._

He yelled again as Sif moved, withdrawing almost the full length from him before slamming back in again, hard enough that he felt the bed rock. His hands gripped the sheets and his back arched, mouth open wide but only little “ah, ah, ah” noises emerging.

Loki had never felt so _full._ Stretched open obscenely wide but as Sif began to move in more rhythmic thrusts each one filled him to the core, leaving him desperate, gasping every time her withdrawal left him empty. Little keening noises escaped him with every impact of Sif’s hips, the hot drag of leather over his insides leaving him raw. His cock was a knot of pleasure-pain, unfulfilled and throbbing need, and he released the sheets with one hand to touch himself only to have Sif grab his wrist and pin it to the bed, her weight shifting and with it the angle of her cock deep, _deep_ inside him.

“No,” she said, ferociously. “I’m not going to make this that easy for you-”

Loki’s nerves felt stretched to the breaking point. His fingers flexed and he tried to squirm, to give himself some friction.

His vision went white with a shock of pure pleasure, and a sound half whine, half shout escaped him. Sif was still moving, though, and whatever that spot was she was dragging right across it and it was like someone had a line directly to the pleasure centers of his brain and was just-

An incoherent string of babbling “please” and “Sif” and “moremoremore” spilled from his lips and Loki didn’t even have the presence of mind to be ashamed as Sif grinned, just a little wicked, and stopped for just long enough for him to slide away from the edge. Then she started moving again.

Only to pull all the way out and turn him over – Loki thought he ought to be humiliated at how easily she managed it but his muscles felt loose and well beyond his command by now. A hand in his hair, Sif pushed his face into the bed and took him again, this time from behind and in short, sharp, driving thrusts. He could only gasp into the bed and grasp helplessly at nothing, knees and legs and body shaking, _shaking_ ah Norns _aaaah-_

Loki spilled with a shout that was muffled in Sif’s bedding, hips driving forward as he came in thick white stripes. Sif rode him through it and by the time his orgasm was ebbing every stroke over hot, sensitive flesh was making him whimper. He didn’t think he could move. He was certain he wouldn’t like to try to stand.

Sif pulled out of him and he slid down to lie flat on the bed, panting. “Well?” she said, her voice harsh.

Loki’s eyelids fluttered. _I concede defeat,_ he thought vaguely, but the words didn’t quite make it to his tongue.

“Good,” Sif said, nearly savagely. She didn’t sound very drunk, and he heard her stalk away. He hoped Sif didn’t mind his occupying this bed for a bit. He had a feeling he was going to be wobbly for a while.

 _Well,_ Loki thought vaguely, stomach damp with his own spend. _There’s something to remember._


End file.
